A Deadly Game
by 39addict101
Summary: Amy Cahill's sword is stuck in the murdered person's chest. But she didn't kill that person. Who did? And why are they trying to blame Amy? For scrittore18's October Challenge
1. Chapter 1

**This is for scrittore18's October Challenge. Enjoy.**

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Light. Music. Blaring music. Dancing. More light. More blaring music.

Amy Cahill needed a break from her obnoxious relatives, just for a moment...or more wine. Her head pounded with the beat of Jonah Wizard's music, and the lights seemed to flash before her eyes, and the room spun.

Her tight black party dress seemed to squeeze her in, and why, oh why, had she let Natalie to convince her to wear those heels? She clicked her way towards the refreshment table, where there were several drinks. Grabbing a small Dixie cup she poured herself a small glass of wine. Downing it quickly, she relished the burn as it tore down her throat. She drank three more, before the familiar light-headed feeling washed over her, and her vision seemed to go back to normal.

Amy knew she was getting drunk, but she didn't care. The past few weeks had been so stressful, with Fiske and Nellie acting weird every time she said anything, and Dan retreating to his room constantly. Now, all she wanted to do was live a little, party, and peace out, as Jonah Wizard would say.

Amy also knew she'd wake up the next morning with a horrific hangover, but she didn't care about that either. She was tired of Fiske saying to her, "Think about the future, Amy, girl, don't live in the moment." She'd had enough with living in the future. As leader of the Cahills, it was hard enough to live in the moment, let alone the future.

She smiled, and twirled around, bumping into Jonah. "Hey, Ames." He said. "What's up?"

Amy could smell the alcohol on his breath, but she didn't care. He was probably just as drunk as she was. "Hey!" She said, feeling flirty. Where was Jake when she needed him? Jake was always one to flirt...maybe a kiss, or something more here or there, and neither of them cared if they went back to normal life afterwards...without each other, of if they stayed together.

After flirting with Jonah for a while, Amy realized she needed to pee. Really bad. "Jonah?" She asked. "Where's the bathroom?"

Jonah's house was huge, and it was impossible to go anywhere without getting lost.

Jonah looked at her, his eyes slightly glazed. "Around the corner." He said, his words slightly slurred. "You can't miss it."

Amy knew she _could_ miss it, but she didn't want to ask Jonah again, so she headed off in the general direction.

Her head spun, and she dreaded tomorrow. She would have an awful hangover. Reaching a hand up to her eyes, she rubbed her eyelid. Rounding a corner, she stepped into the luscious bathroom. She sat down heavily on the closed toilet, and sighed.

She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her hair was snarled. She was a sight, and she looked like she'd just woken up out of bed, and tossed on some clothes (that somehow matched) and threw on a tad makeup, not bothering to brush her hair.

She ran a finger throw her hair, and frowned at the many times it got caught in a snarl. Opening one of the drawers, she dug around until she found a comb, with which she brushed her hair, until it at least looked acceptable.

She looked at her makeup, which was smudged. But not that it mattered, seeing as her eyes were bloodshot. She stared at herself in the mirror, and reapplied some lipstick, and then, opening the door, slipped back out into the smoky blue haze that was Jonah Wizard's idea of a party.

She began walking back towards the place where she thought the room was, but realized she had taken a wrong turn. The thought of wandering around in Jonah's huge house, with other drunk Cahills, was not her idea of fun.

It would be hours before anyone realized she was missing. Yay. She smiled grimly, trying to think of which way to go. Finally she decided that there was no wrong way. _Besides,_ she told herself, _It's possible she could be heading in the right direction. There might be a back exit of some sort._

Her drunken mind couldn't think farther than that, and she continued walking the hallways, her eyes wandering, searching, for the right turn.

And then she heard the scream. It rose, higher and higher, and Amy smiled as she heard it. _Thank you!_ She thought. She followed the sound of the scream, but as she got closer, she realized how very terrified it seemed.

Then she was in the smoky ballroom, and she saw her Cahill relatives standing stock still around a screaming Nellie, who was kneeling on the ground, around something.

Amy's breath caught in her throat, and she ran forward to where they were standing. "What happened?" She asked, her speech slurred.

And then she gasped. Sammy was lying on the floor, in a pool of blood, a sword stuck in his chest.

Natalie turned to her. "I think you know, Amy, exactly what happened."

Natalie turned her head, and pulled the sword out of Sammy's chest. It slid out smoothly, while Amy watched, horrified. She prayed this was just a hallucination.

Natalie pulled out the sword. "Look at this, Amy." She smiled. "Doesn't this seem familiar?"

Amy gasped. The sword Natalie was holding was one of the ones they had got from the Racco House. A little while ago, Dan had inscribed her initials on one, and his initials on the other.

The sword Natalie was holding belonged to her! And it just been stuck in Sammy's chest! The sword had been stolen, and used to kill Sammy. Someone was trying to blame her, for Sammy Mourad's death!

She looked around her, not knowing what to say. How did you deny something like that, when the evidence pointed to you?

And Hamilton turned and asked her a question. "Where were you, all this time?You only showed up, after Sammy's...death."

* * *

 **And...the plot thickens.**

 **Just kidding. This sucks. Like, I have never written a mystery like this before, and I am failing miserably.**

 **Guys, just to tell you, I don't know who killed Sammy, like, I haven't even picked out a person yet. So...don't speculate until I decide.**

 **I'm kidding, you can speculate, I don't care...but I can't answer your question, because I don't even know the answer.**


	2. Chapter 2

Amy stared horrified, at Hamilton.

"You think I killed him?"

The glare of lights in her eyes was suddenly too bright, and she wanted to sleep this away, wake up and find that this was only a dream.

She stared at the circle of shocked and confused and sorrowful faces. Nellie, Jonah, Dan, Ian, Natalie, Cara, Hamilton, Sinead, Jake and Fiske.

Fiske and Dan looked confused, but Nellie's face was twisted. "Amy." She said, after a long moment. "I don't know if you killed him or not, but I will say one thing." She spat out the words hatefully. "Its awfully suspicious."

Amy shook her head. "It wasn't me!"

"Right." Ian said, stepping far away and looking her up and down. "And the leopard doesn't have spots either."

Dan looked as if he was going to say something, but then he stopped himself. "It is your sword, Amy." He said, swallowing. "And...you're drunk. How do you know what you did?"

The words were thrust to Amy's gut, and she felt like she was going to throw up. "I didn't!" She cried. "Why would _I_ kill Sammy? I have nothing against him!"

The rest of the people stood awkwardly, milling around, whispering to one another. "Amy." Fiske began. "I don't think it was you." He frowned. "I think I heard you ask Jonah where the bathroom was...but...I might have had too many drinks myself."

Right then and there, Amy determined that if she ever got out of this mess, and ever had another party, there was going to be no alcoholic beverages.

Then Natalie frowned. "Guys. We need to call the police."

Amy's mind swirled. She needed to figure this out, and fast, before the police decided that it was her, and whisked her off to jail.

Cara spoke up, from where she had been standing, horrified at the sight of the blood. "Yes. I agree. They should be able to sort this out."

Fiske pulled out a phone, and dialed 911. His speech was slurred, and all of them could tell the operator was having a hard time understanding if he was serious, or just a drunk man having some fun.

Finally Fiske set the phone down and said, "They're coming...they're sending two men. They said nobody touch anything."

Natalie looked squeamishly down at the sword she was holding. "Now they'll think it was me! My fingerprints will be on it!"

Amy's mind whirled. Was she just saying that? Was that why she had pulled the sword out? To give an excuse as to why her fingerprints where on it?

Jake stepped out from the shadows. "That makes you sound awfully suspicious." He accused.

Amy stared confused. Was Jake trying to pin the blame on her?

Hamilton voiced her thoughts, as did Ian and Sinead. They were all blaming one another, and soon the sound of fighting broke out in the ballroom.

Nellie was still on her knees by Sammy's body. Tears and mascara were running down her face. "I swear." She whispered. "I will find who did this, and they will pay."

Just then there was a knocking at the door. The boys shrunk into the shadows, as if they were afraid and Sinead glanced around nervously, patting down her dress. Natalie gulped, and set down the sword with a _clang_.

Fiske swallowed, and walked out of the room to let the police in. He led the two men in a few seconds, swaying slightly, and pointed to where Sammy's body lay.

The men, gasped, as if surprised there was actually a murder. One of them pulled out a notebook, and began taking notes right away. The other pulled out another one, and asked. "What weapon was he killed with?"

Natalie, her hand shaking, motioned towards the sword. Her voice wobbled as she spoke. "I...I...I pulled it out, sir. But it was before you told us not to touch anything!"

Amy could tell what the police were thinking. Why would a teenage girl not be afraid to touch a sword stuck in a dead person's chest? Had she touched it just to have an excuse as to why her fingerprints were on it?

The police man grunted, asked her name, and made a small mark on his notepad, causing Natalie to cringe.

Then they moved on to Nellie. "Name?" The one asked in a strong, commanding voice.

"Nellie Gomez."

"Age? Relation to the...the..."

"Dead?" Nellie bitterly spat. "I'm 27, and he's...was...my boyfriend."

The officer nodded, and wrote something on his pad. Then he moved on to Ian, Jake, and Hamilton.

When he came to Sinead, she seemed awfully suspicious. When he asked her her name, she flitted about, answering in short bursts, and glancing around nervously.

After he had finished, the officer stood writing on his pad for a long while.

Amy cringed for her friend, but she wasn't sure if Sinead was innocent. She wasn't sure what to think about anyone. Her head spun, and she shut her eyes tightly, trying to shut out the crimson stain on the white tile, the look of horror on her au pair's face, and most of all, the look on everyone else's face when Hamilton had accused her.

Just then she realized that police officer was talking to her. Motioning for her to follow him, he led her a short distance away from the others, and said, "Age? Name? Relation to the murdered?"

Amy swallowed, and answered the questions, trying not to sound suspicious.

"What were you doing the past couple of hours?" The man asked, not mean, but not kind either.

Amy gulped. "Drinking."

The police officer looked shocked. "You're the only one who's told me that, but I could smell the alcohol on everyone." Then he looked embarrassed, as if he wasn't supposed to say that. "I mean...Ok." He made a note on his pad, and then asked another question.

"What were you doing? The others said that you disappeared, and only came back after..." He paused, and then snapped his fingers. "After Nellie screamed."

Amy shut her eyes. This was going to be difficult to answer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to the few of you that reviewed.**

 **Enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

Trying to swallow her nervousness, Amy began. "I was drunk, and I am still am...but, I really had to pee, and Jonah's house is huge, if you haven't noticed." She said, gesturing around at the hallways that seemed like a maze.

"So, I left, Jonah directed me in the general direction of the bathroom. But...I couldn't find my way back." Her speech was slurred, and her tongue felt swollen and heavy. "I got lost, and when I heard Nellie screaming, I came running in, and they were all standing around...him."

The police nodded for her to continue. "The sword...that was in Sammy's chest was mine. I don't know how it got there, and I don't know who used it. But I would never, never kill my au pair's boyfriend. Ever."

"Wait...she was your au pair?" The police officer's eyebrows furrowed together, and he flipped through his pages, muttering something.

Amy nodded. "Yes..."

He gasped. "One of them told me that you guys had been fighting." He hurried off before Amy could ask who "one of them" was.

She saw the police officer questioning Nellie, calmly, but excitedly writing notes down in his little black book. Her mind wandered, and she stared blankly at her Cahill relatives walking around nervously, throwing suspicious glances at one another.

She sighed, realizing she'd seen this behavior before, at the Gauntlet, when all of them where not at all likely to trust each other. She remembered the way the branches had stayed almost together, as if slightly trusting each other, but not quite.

There was Alistair, and Sinead, Hamilton, and his family...

Even the Kabras had been divided. Mother against children.

She saw it again here. Nellie was glancing at everyone as if _they_ had murdered Sammy...even Amy, Dan and Fiske.

Amy knew Dan would never kill Sammy, or anyone, so she mentally crossed him off her list. As for Fiske...she was pretty sure, but, he didn't tell her everything. He could have had something against Sammy, that he didn't tell her, right?

And then there was Ian. He wouldn't kill Sammy, right?

Natalie wouldn't either, (she thought) although she did have a lot of suspicion on her right now.

Jake wouldn't, right?

Sinead wouldn't, right?

And that's when Amy realized that there was no way possible to ever figure it out. She loved everyone, and she was going to try and clear their names. But, one of them was guilty.

Then she had an idea. Why not try and clear everybody, because, eventually, she'd run into the murderer.

It hurt her, more than she wanted to admit, to look around and wonder which Cahill was the murderer.

Just then the police officer raised his hands in the middle of the room, signaling silence. Every Cahill shut their mouths, and looked at him, questioning.

"Everyone stays here until we figure this out." He said. His partner nodded. "We're guarding all exits. Jonah Wizard, come here."

Jonah blanched and stepped forward. "Yes?" He said. "This is your house. Where are all the exits...including the emergency ones."

Jonah nodded, and began walking away, speaking fast. "You, of course, know where the main one is. Then there's the patio door, and here's a big picture window that a Cahill could probably get out of..."

As soon as the police left, Amy watched as her family burst into an argument. "Who did it?"

"Why?"

"I think it was you, Sinead, you looked suspicious."

"Really? I think it was _you_! You're the one who did..."

Amy shut her eyes, and shouted, "Shut up, all of you!"

Silence. For two seconds.

Then: "I still think it was you!"

"No, it wasn't me! I think it was you!"

"Why would I kill Sammy? I don't have anything against him!"

"Maybe you wanted Nellie for yourself, you pig!"

"Shut up!" Amy called again, the din of voices banging around in her drunken mind. "Everyone shut up! I'm trying to think."

That must have worked, for everyone was quiet...for a while.

When the Cahill Volcano of Hate erupted again, Amy left. She didn't want to get singed by its searing heat, hot words that burned like lava, and rocks insults thrown every which way.

Walking down the hall in the direction she assumed her room was, she left the bitter words, and the insults behind her.

Opening the door to the room she was going to be stuck in, she observed her bag, flung open. And then she gasped, in her drunken state, she had failed to remember that she did not bring the sword with her! She had left it in her room, and someone had stolen it from there.

Shutting her eyes, she tried to remember who could have known where it was, and who could have the key to her house.

Then she frowned. She was talking about Cahills, for goodness sake, and Cahills didn't need a key.

Reaching a hand up, she rubbed at her eyes, already feeling the splitting headache that was going to come. Lying down on her bed, she closed her eyes, and let sleep overtake her.

* * *

When she awoke, the light blinded her, and her head felt as if it had been split in two, and roughly sewn back together. Throwing off the covers, she put her bare feet on the floor, and gasped. It was icy cold.

Sighing, she reached for her socks which she had no memory of taking off, and put them on. Then she grabbed a towel and headed for the shower. There was a line. _Dang it._ She cursed.

Ian Kabra was standing in front of the door, looking as if someone had severely inconvenienced him. "Who's in there?" Amy asked.

Ian shrugged. "Not sure. I've been waiting here for a long time." He knocked on the door. There was no response, but the shower water was running.

Amy sighed. "Ian. When someone has been in there that long, you don't knock, you beat on the door. I bet its Dan, taking a super long shower just to irritate us."

She raised a fist and clashed it against the door. "Ow!' She yelled, as splitting pain ran down her arm. "Sorry." She said, raising a palm to smack the door with. There was still no response from inside.

Frowning, she reached across Ian and turned the handle. The door swung open, and Amy cautiously peered inside.

Jake was lying on the floor, moaning, mumbling something, and it was obvious he was in great pain. _Probably hangover._ Amy mused, as she had Ian help her carry the fully clothed Jake out the door.

Then, before she knew what was happening, Ian was inside, and she was waiting for him to finish with his shower. _Fuck._

* * *

 **Dundundun! She! Is! Waiting! For! A shower! Yay! Give her a round of applause folks! No? Ok, fine.**

 **Yeah, this chapter had nothing occur in it, so sorry about that. I'm still trying to figure out motives, cuz I don't want this to be a 2nd degree murder.**

 **There needs to be some premeditation, as Grace pointed out.**

 **Anyway, please review. Seriously guys, I love it when you review, and it doesn't take that much time to hit the box down there and type a few words.**

 **Thank you.**


	4. Chapter 4

Jake's breaths were labored, and his eyes fluttered shut constantly. His mouth opened and shut, muttering the same words. "Tell. Didn't. Tell."

Amy sighed, leaned down, and slapped Jake's cheek. His eyes flew open, and he gasped, "What happened? Where am I?"

Amy bit her lip. Her head was pounding, and _of course_ she wanted to explain a person in the grip of a hangover why their head hurt. "You're outside the bathroom." She answered simply.

"Oh." Jake said, still sounding confused. He stood up, groaning, and holding his head. "I don't feel good." He blurted.

Amy rolled her eyes. "Of course not. You were drunk, Sammy was killed, and now we're stuck in the house guarded by policemen until one of us confesses."

Jake looked up at her. "Sammy was murdered?" He gasped. "I remember! It's all coming back to me!"

"Great." Amy said. "Maybe you could tell me who killed him?"

Jake frowned. "I don't know, but, now, in my undrunk state, it looks a lot like Hamilton did it."

Amy was shocked. Hamilton? Who would never hurt a fly? Then she remembered Hamilton trying to pin the blame on her. Hamilton . . . "No." She replied. "It was _not_ Hamilton."

Jake laughed cruelly. "If it wasn't Hamilton, then it was Sinead. Did you see how she was talking to the police, and, I mean, it wouldn't be her first offense against the Cahills. I mean, if you think about, she already betrayed _you._ What difference is it to kill Sammy, whom she barely knows?"

Amy nodded. "That makes sense. But, I mean, think about it. She . . . she . . ." Amy stopped. She couldn't clear Sinead unless she had solid evidence.

It would be nearly impossible. Everybody would probably agree with Jake, and deep down in Amy, a small part of her thought that Jake was right.

She reached a hand up to smooth her eyebrows. "I don't know, Jake." She heard the water turn off in the bathroom. "I'll think about it while I'm showering. That should help me."

Jake nodded. "Of course. A warm shower does so much to those who are under the effects of a hangover."

In a few minutes, Ian emerged, his hair dripping, and shirtless. Steam poured out of the bathroom behind him, and Amy rushed in, and slammed the door before something else happened to prevent her from taking a shower.

As she undressed and waited for the water to warm, her mind spun thinking about Jake's words. _"Did you see how she was talking to the police." "It looks a lot like Hamilton did it." "It wouldn't be her first offense against the Cahills. . . . She already betrayed you. . . . kill Sammy, whom she barely knows."_

The water was warm, and as Amy rinsed shampoo from her hair, she realized what her next step should be.

 _Security cameras._ Jonah Wizard would _not_ have a room without them, and it would be relatively easy to look at them . . . if Jonah was conscious enough to tell her the password.

* * *

A freshly-showered, and well-fed Cahill walked towards Jonah's room, a spark of determination in her green eyes. There was a spring in her step, for she realized that she was probably close to solving the mystery.

Knocking on Jonah's door, she waited impatiently until she heard the all-famous voice say, "Come in."

Opening the door, she fairly bounced into the room, and said, "Jonah. What's the password to your security cameras?"

Jonah's eyes lit up, and he propped himself up with pillows. "Of course! Ames, you're a genius!"

Amy smiled shyly. "Thanks, but what's the password? The sooner I find this out, the sooner I can clear my name." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Amy cringed. That made it sound bad.

Jonah's eyes narrowed. "Hang on a sec." He said accusingly. "It would be quite easy for you to delete a couple files. I'm coming with you."

Amy raised her eyebrows. "Ok. I'll keep my eye on you too, cuz it would be easy enough for you to delete files also. In fact, I think I'm staying right with you until you show me."

Jonah frowned. "You know what? See my tablet over there? Bring it to me, and I think we'll be able to access some stuff."

Amy shook her head. "Isn't there a central control room or something that we could go too? I want to look at all of the rooms at once."

Jonah nodded. "I guess we could do that." His voice was halting. Throwing back the covers, he hopped out of bed and said, "I'm going to get dressed, if you'd leave."

Amy considered it, but then shook her head. "This is going to sound really bad, but no. Wrap yourself in a blanket or something. I'm not trusting you alone with that tablet."

* * *

When Jonah had changed, he grabbed his wallet, which, according to him, held a key card that they would need to get into the control room. Walking down the twisting, turning, endless hallways, they finally reached the room which Jonah said, "Is my Top-Dawg Security Center."

Amy rolled her eyes, and Jonah inserted his key card into the lock. It clicked, and the light turned green. Jonah reached towards the handle, and tugged. The door wouldn't open.

Amy frowned, cocking her head. "By the time you got your hand to the door handle, the light turned red. Let me try. Put the card in."

Jonah did as he was told and inserted the card into the lock. The light turned green, and Amy turned the handle, but the door wouldn't budge.

"That's funny." Jonah said. His eyes scanned the card, front and back, and then he gasped. "Hey! This isn't my card!"

His eyes flashed, and he grabbed the handle, yanking it. Amy grabbed his arm. "Jonah." She hissed. "That's not going to work." She raised her eyebrows. "I think someone's in there. Is there another passcode or alternate way to get in that the normal person doesn't know about?"

Jonah looked at her suspiciously. "How'd you know?"

Amy smiled. "I'm rich too."

* * *

 **Hey, guys. Sorry it took me so long to update. But anyways, thanks for reading this. :DDDDDD**

 **Please leave me a review, if you have time.**

 **I'll probably be updating more too, since I have only have 7 days left. *freaks out***

 **I think I learned something about contests. Give people LOTS of time, and they still need grace periods.**

 **Scrittore? Is it ok if this isn't finished by the time this contest is over? Its just... I have a LOT of stuff going on in Biology right now, and English II is really challenging, but of course, you're in college, so I shouldn't complain.**

 ***sighs* I'll do my best.**

 **Thanks for reading this super looong AN.**

 **Review please!**

 **Later, peeps!**

 ***tells myself to stop talking***

 **Ok, fine, see you later!**

 **Addict, OUT!**

 ***waves from a far* BYYYYEEE!**


	5. Chapter 5

Jonah smiled. "Right. I forgot. I always remember you as 'Little Orphan Amy.' "

Amy slapped him.

Jonah rubbed his shoulder. "Look, if I'm going to help you, you gotta be nice to me! This shoulder is insured, remember?"

Amy laughed. "Right, I forgot. Da Wiz. Sorry." The smile vanished off her face. "Can we go now? I really need to figure this out, before the police just arrest me, and the real murderer gets away."

Jonah nodded. "Ok. But, just to let you know, I'm still not fully convinced you're innocent."

Amy frowned. "That's understandable, I mean, I was gone, and I didn't come back until a little while after Sammy was murdered."

Jonah nodded again. His gaze was searching as he looked at Amy, his eyes scrutinizing her face. He sighed heavily, and then stated, "We need to get started. Come back to my room. That's one way to get there."

Amy arched an eyebrow. "One way?" She smiled. "I may be rich, but I don't have fifty ways to get to my control center. _That's_ risky."

Jonah laughed. "Yeah, but when you're Da Wiz, you've also got that figured out. Once I get there, I can touch my fingerprint to the screen and lock all the other exits."

Amy nodded. "Oooh! Techy. Not bad, Jonah, not bad."

Jonah smiled. "I know, I'm amazing."

Amy laughed. "Yeah, but don't talk yourself up too much, or there's going to be a _big_ crash when you fall."

Jonah narrowed his eyes. "Thanks. Thanks a lot, Amy."

Amy smiled, and placed a hand on her chest. "Anytime."

* * *

Reaching Jonah's room, Jonah opened the door, but not before glancing around. "I don't want anyone to know about this." He hissed. "And I'm not sure telling you is such a good idea. If you spill . . ." He let his words trail off, letting the unsaid threat's words take its toll.

Amy nodded. She reached out and put a hand on Jonah's shoulder. "I understand." She said, her voice low. "I understand." She sighed, and looked down at the ground.

Her family was so . . . complicated. It wasn't enough that she had five locks on her door, only two of which she locked, that way, if by some slim chance anyone got the key, they would be locking certain locks, while unlocking certain others, and they wouldn't have a clue.

And the fact that they even bothered to think that she would kill her au pair's fiancé was disturbing. She and Nellie were close enough to be sisters.

There wasn't anything Nellie _didn't_ know about her. Why on God's green earth would she kill her sister's husband-to-be?

It just didn't make sense, but she knew _why_ Nellie would suspect her. Why wouldn't she? Amy was a Cahill, after all, and the Cahills were not exactly known for their love of family relationships and trust of each other.

But it still hurt, and more than Amy cared to admit. Brushing these thoughts off, she turned back to the situation at hand. She looked over at Jonah who was muttering to himself.

Jonah looked up, and saw Amy watching him. "Ok. This is going to sound really weird . . ." He said, blushing a deep red, "But, we have to go into the bathroom together," He cringed, "And lock the door."

Amy smiled. "So?"

Jonah pursed his lips. "That's not all. There's a chip in my thigh . . ."

"Oh." Amy said, trying to stay serious. And then laughter, which had been bubbling up, spilled over like a rushing waterfall. She laughed. She laughed so hard she was doubled over, and before she knew what she was saying, she wheezed out, "Who came up with the genius idea to put it there?"

Jonah looked at the ground, and mumbled. "Me. I figured when people look for chips, they look in the side of your hand, or your thumb. It's also a tracking device, which means that if I'm ever kidnapped, and people have tried, then they'll be able to track me."

"Oh." Amy coughed, still laughing at the hilarity of the situation. "I'll turn my back."

Jonah sighed. "That won't work. Basically all the walls are mirrors."

Amy snorted. "Wow. So you can look at yourself peeing. Great, Jonah."

Jonah frowned. " _That_ was _not_ my idea. It was my designer's. He insisted, with a capital _I_ that all famous people had one and I quote, "Needed one too, because they're all the rage." Un-qoute. I still don't get why I said yes."

Amy laughed. "Jonah, you're so . . . so . . . funny."

Jonah sighed. "Thanks. Let's . . . . get this over with?" His voice was questioning.

Amy nodded. "Yes. Let's. I'll look at the ground. If you tell me there's a mirror there too, I don't know what I'll do."

Jonah sighed. "Actually . . . there is."

Amy was horrified. "Jonah!"

"Kidding!" Jonah said, a grin plastered on his face.

Amy smiled. "For once I'm glad to be the object of a practical joke."

Jonah smiled. "Good, now think about that while I take off my pants."

Amy sighed. "Yeah. I'll just stare at the ground."

They went into the bathroom, and Amy counted the tiles until she heard a beep. She continued staring at the ground until Jonah said, "Ok. Let's go."

He was fully dressed (thankfully) and there was a small tunnel in the wall. "Come on." He spoke softly. "Let's go."

Amy nodded, and they stepped into the tunnel. As soon as she was inside, the wall closed behind her, and it was pitch black.

"Jonah?" She hissed. "Did you bring a flashlight or anything?"

There was no answer, but in a second, Jonah was holding up his phone. "Not exactly." He smiled. "I think this will work just as well."

He began walking off in the direction that Amy suspected was the control room. His footsteps thudded in the dull tunnel, and Amy followed, stepping lightly on the stone floor.

After a while, they reached a door, and Jonah sighed again. "I think that this will let me open it without my key card, since I activated the chip at the other end. If not, then I'll have to use the chip again."

Amy nodded. "Ok. This time, though, there's no mirrors."

Jonah slapped her, and tried the door. It swung open.

Amy looked into the room and gasped. Jonah's mouth was wide open, and his face was contorted in a mask of horror.

They spoke the words at the same time.

* * *

 **Hahahahahah! Cliffie! Or . . . my sorry attempt at one.**

 **Sorry.**

 **Yeah, anyway, Scrittore, I'm trying really hard to get this done before, but if its not, you'll forgive me, right? *pleads***

 **Review, and I'll update. Probably tomorrow, unless my wifi dies. Which would probably happen with my luck.**

 ***totally not trying to bring up the word count by rambling like I did yesterday***

 **Bye!**


	6. Chapter 6

"Jake? What are you doing here?"

Jake jumped up from the swivel chair he was sitting on, and looked around him. "I was . . . um, trying to figure out who murdered Sammy. What do you think?" His eyes wandered constantly, not quite meeting Amy's gaze.

Amy frowned. "Are you sure? You look really guilty!" From beside her, Jonah nodded.

Jake shook his head, his dark hair flopping craziliy. "No! I'm not! I think I know who did it."

Amy arched her eyebrows. "Really? Why? What makes you think that?"

Jake cocked his head towards the door. "I'll show you. It just calls for a quick trip to Sinead's room.  
 _He's trying to get us away from the computer._ Thought Amy, but she kept quiet, and said, "Sorry, but I think we'll stay here. You stole Jonah's card, and planted a fake one, and we had to crawl through a couple tunnels to get here. I think we need to check something out first."

Jake's face fell. "There's secret tunnels?"

Jonah nodded. "Of course. The rich have luxuries that you, being a peasent, wouldn't know about."

Jake glared at Jonah with eyes of steel. "You don't have to sound like the Cobra."

Amy frowned. "Right now, that doesn't matter. Jake," Her voice was strong commanding, "Go sit in that chair. I've got a couple questions to ask you."

Jake narrowed his eyes. "So that's how we're playing?" He growled. In one swift motion, he spun towards the wall and shut the lights off.

Amy moved towards Jonah, grasping his arms tightly in her own. She could hear Jake breathing in the still darkness, and it was terrifying. Sheer horror ran down her body, and her heart beat a stacatto rhythm that would have made an musician proud.

And then she felt the knife against her throat.

"Get down on your knees." Jake commanded, his breath hot on her ear.

Amy knelt down, the coldness of the floor seeping through her jeans. She felt Jonah kneel down next to her, and then rough hands grasped her wrists, trying them together with some type of cord.

Amy gritted her mouth, determined not to open it, in case Jake tried to shove something in it. In a few seconds she felt Jake's hand running over her face, looking for her mouth in the blackness.

She was determined to keep her mouth shut. But Jake was stronger. He pried her mouth open and stuffed a gag in. Amy bit down hard, trying to bite his fingers, but she couldn't bite anything through the bulky dry cloth. She was so thirsty. The cloth instantly dried up any moisture her mouth produced, and her tongue felt swollen and heavy. She began working her hands, trying to free them of the tight cloths that bound them. The fabric bit into her skin, and it hurt when she pulled at it, trying to loosen it.

She bumped Jonah, and he muttered something that was stopped by the gag in his mouth.

Suddenly Amy had an idea. Moving close to Jonah, she reached with one hand towards his, feeling for the knot that held them together. Maybe she could . . . .  
Jonah seemed to get the idea, and stretched his hands closer to hers. After a few anxious minutes, Amy felt the knot slip.

Jonah was free!

She heard him reach up and grab the gag out of his mouth, and then he untied her. With relief, Amy pulled the dry cloth out her mouth and relished the feeling of saliva pooling near her molars.

"Where's the light switch?" She asked.

"Over this way, I think." Jonah mumbled, fumbling around in the dark. Amy stood silently in the dark, hugging herself.

After a few long moments, the lights switched back on, and Jonah was standing by the light switch. Amy ran towards him and wrapped him a hug before she could stop herself.

He was so solid, so warm, so comforting. Jonah hugged her back, and murmured, "I thought we were gonna die. When he put that knife on my neck . . ."

Amy looked up into his eyes, and nodded. "I know."

Then she let her arms fall. "I need to figure this out. I have enough evidence to think that Jake did it, but I need to be sure."

Jonah nodded. "He was acting pretty suspicious, wasn't he?"

Amy nodded. "Let's go." She walked towards the screens, and shook the mouse to get the computer booted up. She looked up at Jonah, and motioned for him to type in the passcode. Jonah leaned over and typed it in.

After it unlocked, Amy bit her lip. "Ok. Get this thing started. We need to look at the security videos of the time the murder happened." Then she stopped, a thought occurring to her. "Who noticed Sammy was dead?"

Jonah frowned. His gaze fell to the floor. "I don't know, I think it was Hamilton, but, Nellie screamed, so I don't know."

Suddenly Jake's accusation about Hamilton popped into Amy's mind. She told Jonah what Jake had said, but he shook his head. "It wasn't Hamilton. He was with me all night. We were watching Sinead. He went to get a drink, and then Nellie screamed. There was no way he could have gone and gotten a sword, _and_ stab Sammy that quickly."

Amy nodded. "Ok. I believe you. Let's look at these videos."

Jonah bit his lip, and scrolled through. "Should we start at eleven-thirty?" At Amy's nod of consent, he pushed play.

They watched silently. It looked like typical Cahill party with all of its drama. Sinead yelling at Jonah. Natalie smacking Dan. Ian standing on the sidelines, looking bored.

Jake talking to Sammy. Nellie talking to Sammy. Jake talking to Sammy and -

Amy gasped. "Jonah! I was right!"

* * *

 **Haha!**

 **Sorry, next chappie will be more . . . interesting. I promise.**

 **This sucks. *cries* I can't believe I even attempted this. I suck at writing mysteries, so for those of you who are reading this, I apologize.**

 **I'm really sorry, Scrittore, for being such a poor entry in this contest.**

 **Bye!**


	7. Chapter 7

Jake was now arguing with Sammy. Amy looked over at Jonah to see his horrified expression.

Jake's face was contorted into an ugly scowl, and his eyes were flashing. It was obvious, despite the fact that screen was fuzzy.

Sammy was also speaking angry words, his hands gesturing wildly, his face like that of a snarling dog.

The two men faced each other and then Jake screamed something to Sammy. Sammy yelled something back.

Amy gasped in horror, and turned away. She didn't want to see Sammy murdered.

She looked back up just in time to see Jake's fist strike Sammy's jaw. She cringed, and turned away.

Within a few seconds however, she turned back. Where was the sword?

Sammy was holding his chin, and doubled over. Jake had evidently kicked him in the time she was turned away. Sammy was taking blow after blow, Jake's balled fists pummeling him over and over, again and again.

Blood poured from Sammy's nose, but still Jake continued. He was yelling something.

"How did nobody notice?" Amy cried, the horror of the situation grasping her in all its cruelty.

"Because." Jonah said grimly. He paused it and turned to camera over to where he and Hamilton where frozen, their hands stopped in some rather _i_ _nteresting_ gesture.

Nellie and all the others were staring at them in horror, and Ian was doubled over laughing. Natalie, from the looks of it, was trying not to laugh, and Dan was lying on the floor, screaming with laughter.

"Oh."

"Yeah, I know." Jonah replied. "We just need to finish this . . ."

Amy put a hand on his shoulder. "I don't think we need to see this. The police do."

Jonah nodded. "I know . . . but what about . . ."

"The sword." Amy finished. "I don't know. That's what I was wondering too, and I'm a little confused about it."

Jonah frowned. "Let's just finish this." He hit play, and Amy turned away, unable to watch.

Jonah gasped. "Amy! You need to see this!"

Amy turned back around. The screen was frozen.

Sammy was lying on the floor, alone. No one was near him.

"What happened?" She asked.

Jonah frowned. "Jake just left. He looked startled, as if he suddenly realized what he was doing."

He hit play again, and they stared at Sammy, lying cold on the floor. Within five minutes, a very drunk Sinead came stumbling in, giggling, from the looks of it.

"What did he tell her?" Amy gasped.

"He told her something!" Jonah cried. He turned his face away, and shut it off, but not before Amy's eyes, glued to the screen, saw her plunge the sword into Sammy's chest.

Sinead laughed, stumbled, and turned away.

Amy felt bile rising in her throat. There was a disgusting taste in her mouth that had not been there just a moment ago.

"Rewind it, and go to another scene!" She commanded. "I think Jake told her something!"

Jonah nodded. "She must have. He swung the cameras around until he was at the hall camera. Jake was approaching Sinead, who was swinging around Amy's sword.

Her face lips were lifted up in a goofy smile, and her eyes lit up when she saw Jake approaching her.

Amy groaned. "Oh, no. So . . . he told her to do it?"

Jonah nodded. Then he smacked the computer. "I wish this thing had sound on it. I didn't install sound because I would hate to have to listen to people's conversations . . . I should have."

Amy frowned. "If you install it now, would it still work?"

Jonah shook his head grimly. "It wouldn't. Only current captures, or videos, whatever you want to call it, would work."

"Oh. Dang."

"I know." Jonah frowned. "I wish we could hear what they were saying."

Amy pursed her lips. "Maybe Sinead would tell us."

Jonah laughed. "Right. I doubt she'd remember. By ten o'clock she was staggering. I had to tell her not to drink anymore. Thankfully it had worn off by the time the police showed up."

"So she knew what she did?" Amy asked.

Jonah shrugged. "Not nessecarily. She was . . . pretty drunk. I had to grab her at one time to keep her from walking into the wall."

Amy cringed. "Jonah, promise me next time we have a get together, if we ever do this again after what happened, there'll be no alcohol involved.

Jonah held out his hand. "I promise, gurl."

Amy smiled, and took Jonah's hand. It was rough in her soft one, and she squeezed it gently. "Deal." She replied. "Never again will I drink, and I hope you'll do the same."

Jonah nodded. "I won't touch the stuff again."

"Good. But right now, we need to go find Sinead. Maybe she can help us clear some of this up."

* * *

They found Sinead sitting in her room, staring out the window. She looked up, startled, when Amy and Jonah walked in.

Hopping off the plush vibrant red chair she was sitting on, she gasped. "Amy! Jonah!" She bit her lip, looking at the ground. "You found out, didn't you?"

Amy nodded. "Why, Sinead? Why? What did Jake tell you?"

Sinead opened her mouth to answer, but suddenly she was crying. Tears poured out of her already-red eyes, and she grabbed onto Amy. "I don't remember." Her voice was choked. "I mean, I remember some of what he told me, but, I was so drunk." She bit her lip, and inhaled sharply. Swallowing she began again. "I think he told me it was all some joke. That there was a gunny sack or something set up to look like Sammy. Jake said to stick the sword in it, and not to worry if there was something that looked like blood. He said that it was a joke, and that Sammy was going to laugh about it when he saw it." Sinead let go of Amy and buried her face in her hands. "If I had known," Her eyes were squinted but the tears still poured out of them like water. "I would never have done it."

Amy grabbed Sinead's shoulders and looked at her in the eye. "Sinead. You were drunk. I think you need to tell this to the police. And Jake is going to have some explaining to do."

Sinead broke down again. "But I'll go to jail. They'll lock me up and throw away the key!"

Amy shook her head. "They might. But I think we have a good chance, if you cooperate and tell them, make sure you emphasize that you were drunk, and that Jake _tricked_ you."

Sinead sighed. "Ok. Let's go find the police."

Jonah smiled. Grabbing Sinead, he pulled her in for a quick hug. "I'm proud of you, Sinead. Just to let you know, if you do go to jail, I'll visit you every day."

Sinead slapped him playfully, her eyes still red. "Thanks, a lot. I'm sure it will brighten my day to see gangsta' face. In fact, it'll brighten my day so much I think I'd just puke."

Turning around, she went into the bathroom and blew her nose. Grabbing a sweater, she put it on, and then inhaled deeply. "Alright. I think I'm ready."

* * *

 **I had no clue I could write this much in a day. Like, seriously, right now I don't think I can think anymore. *sighs***

 **Sorry, this is probably really crappy.**

 **As you can probably tell.**

 **So...thanks for reading this. I love you guys so much.**

 **I hope you all know that.**

 **"See" you guys later.**

 **:PPPPPP**

 **-39addict101**


	8. Chapter 8

"Ok. So he told you it was a joke?" The police man was surprisingly calm. They had found him guarding one of the exits, and had persauded Sinead to suck up her fear and go talk to the man.

She had briefly told him her story, ending with, "But I didn't know! I was drunk, and Jake tricked me."

The man had written down everything she had said, and now turned to Amy and Jonah. "Do you belive her story?"

They nodded. "Yes." Amy replied. "We saw it on the control center camera."

The officer turned to Jonah, and raised his eyebrows. "How come we didn't hear about this before?"

Jonah grinned sheepishly. "Um . . . I was drunk."

The officer's eyebrows shot up again. "Really? Last night, no one admitted to being drunk, except Amy here." He motioned towards Amy, who blushed and looked at the ground.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that." Jonah's cheeks were a flaming red. "I . . . when I'm drunk, I don't think clearly. But I knew I was drunk, and I didn't tell you, so I apologize."

The officer nodded. "Its ok. Let's call the captain. You'll show him to the control center. I'll stay here and guard my post."

Jonah nodded. "Coolo with us."

* * *

They sat in the control center, showing the chief police everything they had just recently discovered. The man listened quietly, and then he turned to Sinead, who sat silently on the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Well, well, well, young lady. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Sinead's eyes were squints, and her mouth was open in a silent sob, as she attempted to say, "I'm sorry. I was drunk. If I could take it back, I would!"

The man nodded. "I'm sure you would. I want everything Jake said to you." The man frowned, and then looked down at his notebook which he was holding firmly in one hand. "Does anyone know where Jake is? I need to question him too."

Amy nodded. "Of course. I last saw him . . . in here, actually, he gagged and bound me and Jonah. I haven't seen him since. He's probably lying low, trying to figure out how to get out of this."

The police nodded. "I'm sure. Where's his room? I need to talk to him. Now."

Jonah led the man down the complicated twists and turns that was Jonah's mansion. Amy wasn't sure how he could even remember where he was going, but somehow, Jonah managed.

Reaching the room which, as Jonah said, "Here's his hidey hole.", the man knocked and when there was no answer, opened the door. It swung open, its hinges squeaking slightly.

Jake was lying on his bed, muttering a word over and over. "Tired. Tired. So Tired."

"Jake Rosenbloom?" The police man said, quite loudly.

Jake jumped off his bed, and stood awkwardly, his socked foot moving in small circles on the hardwood floor. "Yes, sir?" He answered, his foot fascinating him.

"Look at me." The man commanded. Jake looked up, and seemed to find the man's uniform incredibly interesting. The man sighed. "In the eyes."

Jake raised his head, and looked up at the man.

"Did you beat up Sammy, who was murdered last night by Sinead Starling, who, according to her, was commanded to by you. According to her, she was so drunk that she would believe anything. Did you tell her that it was all a joke?"

Jake looked down at the floor. "Yes, but, officer, I can explain."

The officer raised his eyebrows. "Go ahead then. I'm not leaving until this is cleared up."

Jake looked down at the floor. Clearing his throat, he began . . .

"It all started several years ago. I was . . . doing something I wasn't supposed to," He looked up. "It wasn't illegal, I promise! But anyway, Sammy caught me. He threatened to tell my girlfriend, who at the time was Amy. I didn't want her to know, so I agreed to his terms. Which were one thousand dollars a month. But Sammy kept raising the prices every month, and last month, it was ten thousand." Jake's voice cracked.

Amy gasped. "How could he? I didn't know Sammy was capable of doing something like that!"

The police officer made a sound in the back of his throat, and scratched something down on his notepad. "Continue, young man."

Jake nodded. "I beat him up. I was drunk, and the alcohol made me angry. So angry, in fact, that when I saw Sinead swinging the sword . . ." He inhaled sharply. "I couldn't resist. She had this stupid smile on her face, so I knew she was drunk. I told her it was a joke. I told her that I set this up, and that Sammy would walk in and see it, and find it funny." He stopped, and looked at Sinead. "Sinead, I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

Sinead nodded brusquely.

Jake continued, "I saw her run off, happy to please, and then I knew that I'd made a mistake. So I went in, and tried to forgot about it. I drank even more. By the time Nellie found his body, I could barely stand. Thankfully though, by the time you guys got here, it was wearing off. But I'm sure you knew I was drunk."

The man laughed. "I could tell you were all drunk. I honestly just assumed that you were so drunk you didn't know you were drunk."

Jonah snorted. "Wow. Makes perfect sense, even to my low hip-hop gangsta mind."

The officer shot Jonah a dirty look. "Yeah. Hip-hop. Right."

Jake looked up. "How long do I have to be in jail?"

The man shrugged. "We'll leave that to the judge. However, probably not anymore than fifteen years."

Jake gasped. "Fifteen years? My whole life will be gone!"

The policeman nodded. "I know, sonny. If I could help you, I would. But I'm just a stupid police, and judges don't listen to me. However, given the circumstances, and that you were blackmailed, it probably _won't_ be fifteen, but I can't promise."

Sinead let out a long shuddering breath. "What about me? What about me!" Her voice rise high, and squeaked on the last "me".

The man shrugged. "Maybe the same. Maybe you two will get on sentence, and split it. But either way, I'm not sure. Its up to the judge. Not me."

* * *

 **And! You! Know! EVERYTHING!**

 **Of course, I'm not finished. I am proud to say that this is one of the first stories I've actually had planned out. Like, I actually knew who was the murderer, and why, by chapter two. (or maybe it was three?)**

 ***shrugs* Either way, I have no (successfully ... not really) completed (almost) a pre-planned story!**

 **I'M SO EXCITED!**

 **Thanks so much for reading guys, and please, please, please REVIEW. It makes my day.**

 **And, to all you guests out there, if you do review, it makes my day even more.**

 **Like, one guest, she/he reviewed on my "A Secret Life" and they were the reason I updated.**

 **Seriously, REVIEW, it actually influences me to write more.**

 **Thanks, guys. :DDDDDD**


	9. Chapter 9

Epilogue: Some Months Later

The room was dark. Her footsteps echoed in the darkness, filling the space around her, and sending chills down her spine as she heard her own footsteps echo behind her back.

Sinead Starling paced in her cell. She was going to be released tomorrow, and the excitment, horror, and general terrifyingness of it all overwhelmed her. As hard she tried, she was not going to sleep on her last night stuck in the cell.

Her fingers instinctively found each other, and they grasped, forming a small boat, which she held close to her, cradling her pregnant stomach.

The babe within was a secret. No one knew about it. No one would ever know, until she came out.

Then they would see her enlarged stomach. Then they would see her swollen ankles, her puffy eyes, and they would know.

They would ask questions, begging for answers which they would receive. The answer would be brisk, and chilly. Sinead did not care to spill the secrets of that night, so long ago.

But she would have to. The father would not care for her child.

And she knew she loved her unborn baby. She knew she cared for it more than she had ever cared for another human being.

She knew she would want the best for it.

And that's why she would tell her family. That's why she would spill the secrets of that dark night, which were best covered up with the sands of time.

But they would not remain buried, as was best. It was only when the authorities had found out she was pregnant that she had permission to skip half of her sentence.

She had co-operated, if not for herself, then for her unborn child.

But Sinead Starling did not know the half of it.

She did not know that the reason she was truly sent to jail.

 _Blackmail, murder, betrayal_. Sinead was used to those cold words. She was used to receiving nothing but cold glances, and artic smiles.

So when a drunk Jake had come to an equally drunk Sinead, she had accepted. While they were writhing in pleasure, Sammy had come upon them. He had "talked" to Jake about it the next day, unbeknownst to a soon-to-be pregnant Sinead.

She did not know that she had started the seeds of hate that were planted between Sammy and Jake. But she did know that had stopped it, and finished it before it grew to an ugly plant of hate war.

And she did not want her unborn child to know about her mistake.

That was why she would fall on her knees, beg, and plead. She would cry, letting her tears fall freely, until someone gave in and helped her.

She was willing to accept the consequences of the deadly game she had played.

And she knew the others would have to accept too.

* * *

Sinead stood in front of her house. Its empty windows stared out at her like her own dull eyes. Placing a hand on her stomach, she walked up the drive.

Her footsteps were hollow on the concrete. The grasses were brown. The flowers - her lilies, her violets, her tulips, - which she had once been so proud of were dead. They lay in a dry heap on scorched mulch.

Sinead stepped forward slowly, trying to make up her mind if she even wanted to see what the inside of her house looked like.

Finally convincing herself, she dug in her pocket and pulled out a key. Opening the door, she stepped into her house for the first time in a long while.

Dust motes floated in the light streaming in through the open door. Her couch sagged wearily, tired of the neglect it had faced.

The carpet was littered with something Sinead didn't nessecarily want to identify. A small mouse ran across the floor, its tiny legs outstretched in panicked flight.

The windows were filthy. Her bookshelves were full of dust. Walking across the dirty carpet, Sinead sneaked a peek into the kitchen.

It was worse - much worse - then she'd expected. Dirty dishes lay molded on the counter, in the exact same spot she'd left them when she'd gone to Jonah's party.

She hadn't known she would only be allowed to come back for a few minutes - to grab a few clothes and other nessecities.

She hadn't known her life would be tilted upside down.

Sighing, she looked at the mess she would have to clean.

Walking heavily towards the closet where she kept her cleaning articles, she heard a small knock on her front door. She frowned. Who would bother to call on her this early?

Reaching for a broom, she walked towards the door and opened it.

Amy stood on the front porch, a wrapped present in her hand. She looked quite nervous, and Sinead stood awkwardly in the doorway, unable to think of anything to see.

Amy's eyes wandered down, and stopped at Sinead's protruding stomach. Amy looked up, hesitant. Motioning towards Sinead's stomach, she asked, "Is that why they let you out early?"

Sinead nodded.

"Who's the fath-. . . I mean, when's he due?"

Sinead smiled, but it wasn't a happy smile. It didn't leave her lips. "Jake's the father. I don't know when exactly. Soon." She paused, and then broke down crying. "I need help. I'm scared, and I know I don't deserve anyone's help."

Amy cut her off. "Sinead. You're family. Jake tricked you. Its not your fault, and we all love you, and I'll be willing to help you." She peeked past Sinead into the house. "And I'll start by helping by helping you clean up your house."

Dropping the broom, Sinead pulled Amy into a hug.

Then she let go. "What happened to Jake?"

Amy smiled grimly. "He's in jail. For another ten years."

"Oh." Her response was vague. Biting her lip, she burst out, "You know what? I think he deserved it."

Amy frowned. "I think so too. And I got the vibe that he was really sorry for what he'd done."

Sinead clenched her teeth. "Maybe the ugly results of this deadly game can really be buried."

Amy nodded. "I think they can. I really think they can."

* * *

 **Thanks, guys, for reading this. I just want to say that it has been a pleasure to write this, and to read all of your reviews.**

 **Scrittore, thanks for hosting this awesome contest. Like, seriously, this was one of the most fun (if not stressful) contests I've ever joined.**

 **I think you did an amazing job with it, although I must say I'm sorry for totally ruining the "rep" by entering with my AWFUL story, "A Deadly Game"**

 **But . . . I must say, it was really fun to write, so thanks to everyone for reading.**

 **A shoutout to my reviewers which include . . . Grace, Ruby, Scrittore, Star, Etincelle . . . and a believe a guest or two.**

 **Thanks so much, guys! I love you all!**

 **May the best entry (G race's :PPP) win!**

 **-39addict101**


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